


summertime

by xuyue



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, Female Reader, Outercourse, Penis In Vagina Sex, minor upskirt kink?, your very cliche best friends to lovers fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29648925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuyue/pseuds/xuyue
Summary: you and hanamaki have been best friends since high school, but you can't help but want more.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	summertime

**Author's Note:**

> Do NOT recommend or mention this on tiktok. The government will find you guilty of tax fraud if you do.

“Did you know that penguins have knees?” Hanamaki says, head lolling precariously off the edge of your bed.

You nudge the mess of strawberry blond with your sock-covered foot. “You’re going to end up with long-term neck problems,” you scold. “And yes, I did know that penguins have knees. Why wouldn’t they have knees?”

“I don’t know,” a hand smacks at your foot, “Maybe God decided they wouldn’t need knees since they just waddle around.”

“I mean, they have to swim too.”

“Do you _really_ need knees to swim, though?” Makki asks doubtfully.

“I don’t know, why don’t we get rid of your knees and see if you can swim?” you tease, putting your phone aside.

“Two thousand yen says I can do it if you somehow manage to make my knees disappear.”

“Oh, you’re on,” you reply, “Once science figures out how to de-knee people, I’m gonna hit you up to collect on my two thousand.”

He pushes himself up to a sitting position and holds out his right hand, pinky aloft.

“Swear on it.”

You hook your pinky with his and he gives you a lopsided grin. Your eyes meet and your stomach flutters.

 _Ah_.

That's right.

Penguins have knees, the sun is a star, and you have an unrequited crush on your best friend.

Your fingers break apart and you let out a short, nervous laugh. Moments like these were becoming more and more common since the realization of your feelings towards Hanamaki and you felt it was only time before he called you out on it.

Fortunately for you, his phone starts to buzz with an obnoxious amount of text notifications and he scrambles to fish the device out of the pocket of his shorts.

“Oikawa?” you ask, leaning over to look at the screen. You catch notice of your name in one of the many message bubbles.

“The one and only,” he mutters, thumbs tapping across the screen to formulate a response.

“He wants to know if you’re coming to his summer break party on Saturday. Says you can sleep over if you’re planning to drink.”

“Oh shit,” you reach for your own phone, “I’m down. Does he want us to pick up drinks on the way there?”

He pauses, “Actually…”

“What?” you poke his shin. “Are you ditching me for the boys?” you rib, teasingly.

He gives you an odd look, “You _are_ one of the boys.”

Those words strike true, causing your heart to pang with a feeling of hopelessness. Of course you’d literally grown up with each other. You’d seen each other through growth spurts, awkward phases, and disastrous young adult-esque choices but you still found yourself massively attracted to him. However, it was clear that he didn’t feel the same.

“Oikawa wants Mattsun and I to hang with some of his college friends and help set up the party that day,” he quips, entirely unaware of your heartbreaking ordeal. “He says he wants it to be more nightclub-y rather than our usual jams so we have to go early to set up lights and shit. He says you can bring Suzuha-san if you want, though.”

“Cool,” you lean back onto your pillow and stare at your ceiling, “Cool, cool.”

“Are you mad?” he prods your thigh with his knee. God, you couldn’t wait to de-knee him in the future.

“Why would I be mad?” you reply, blankly. “I love Su-chan.”

In all honesty, you did love Suzuha, your godsent roommate. She was not reserved, a good cook, or particularly neat but she had had enough drive to top the academic rankings of her major while still clubbing every weekend. She’d dragged you out of your comfort zone, kicking and screaming, but was the first one to jump in when you got a little too drunk and a guy was getting too handsy.

Even after coming back to Sendai for the summer, you’d kept in close contact and you’d both arranged for her to come visit, with her staying at her cousin’s place near your old high school.

“Hey, is Suzuha-san still dating that international student?”

That gets your attention.

“What? Why?” you sit up, shooting him a sharp look. “Who’s asking?”

“Relax, Princess,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. You stick your tongue out at the use of your childhood pet name. “Mattsun was just asking. Y’know, out of very innocent curiosity.”

“No, they didn’t break up,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Plus, he’s not her type.”

“Why not?” he snorts, unlocking his phone to, no doubt, give Matsukawa the bad news. “Because he’s not a _gaijin_?”

You scowl, grabbing a pillow to smack him with, “Fuck off, Hiro. You don’t even know her like that.”

“True,” he says, dodging a stuffed Gudetama assault, “I don’t. But I also didn’t know that you rode for her like that, Princess. Replacing me in your life?”

You soften. “No way, dumbass. Su-chan and I are super close because I’ve seen her everyday for months. Plus we’re different.”

“Different?” he questions, jokingly, “Different how?”

You look down at the pastel colours of your childish Little Twin Stars bedspread.

“I...I don’t know. We’re just different.”

Hanamaki grins, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You scramble out of the way of his incoming attack but he anticipates this, chasing you around the small surface of your bed on his hands and knees.

Strong arms, thicker than you remember, wrap around your waist and pull you down to the comforter.

“You can’t get away from me that easily,” he growls, his voice dangerously close to your ear. You freeze, swallowing as a deep blush begins to creep up your neck. The warmth of his body is flush against your back and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating right now.

“Let go, dumbass,” you laugh shakily, struggling against his grip.

“Nah,” he says, the word muffled against your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to think of more casual things. School. Exams. The pile of laundry still sitting in your dryer.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you huff into the folds of the blankets.

“Good.”

-

“Did you _really_ just say that?” Suzuha stops in the middle of pulling another crop top from her overnight bag. She gives you a glare so withering that you have to look away. “Did you really just say that you don’t think you’re hot enough for this guy from your _high school_?”

“Yes,” you say weakly, hugging one of the throw pillows on her guest bed. “Hiro just doesn’t...I just don’t think he finds me _attractive_ ,” you whine, pushing your chin into the soft material.

“Hmm,” Suzuha hums, producing a pair of studded jeans from the bag. “And why do you think that? Did he tell you you were ugly to your face? Because guys can lie about those things with girls they’re friends with.”

“No,” you mumble. “He said I was _one of the boys_ ,” you say with a deep sigh.

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think you’re attractive,” she says, dryly.

“He’s never said I _was_ attractive,” you shoot back, pointedly.

Suzuha throws her hands up in frustration, flinging a shimmery bralette in the air.

“You’re impossible,” she says, conclusively. “Every time we go out, I literally have to beat the men off of you. Which is a real inconvenience because I prefer not touching strange men at all.”

You fall back dramatically onto her bed. Not only was it larger than your own bed at home, you’re sure that the mattress was also more expensive. Memory foam, probably.

“Yeah, but that’s Tokyo me,” you groan at the ceiling light above you. “Tokyo me is like...totally different from Sendai me.”

“You’re the same person,” Suzuha sighs, because _duh_ , you are. “But maybe you’re just too caught up in trying to be who you were back home instead of who you’ve grown to be in Tokyo.”

You roll onto your side, trying to process her words.

“Your friends don’t know who you’ve become,” she advises, as you hear the zip of another pocket of her bag opening. “They know you from Sendai and you know them that way, too, but you all can’t be who you were in high school anymore. I can attest to the fact that you’ve grown so much from first year; you’re confident, able to hold a good conversation with a member of the opposite sex, and you feel comfortable in those ridiculous heels I let you borrow. Maybe it’s time to show them the you from now rather than the you from high school.”

“And you think that’ll get Hiro to stop seeing me as one of the guys?” you ask quietly and Suzuha gives you a rare kind smile.

“I know it will,” she quips. “Now help me unpack the rest of my shit, I accidentally crammed half my wardrobe in this bag.”

-

“Shit, Su-chan,” you mumble as you stare at your reflection in her guest room’s en suite. “I feel like we’re gonna hit up Roppongi in a minute,” you laugh, running your fingers through your styled and sprayed curls.

Someone who looks like you in the mirror blinks back, her lashes longer and more voluminous than yours naturally were. Carefully applied makeup makes her skin look flawless and her eyes look more defined. You stare at the cherry red gloss on her lips, almost unable to make the connection between you and her. The smile she gives you is confident and alluring, which were things you were not so easily able to associate with yourself back at home.

“It does really take me back,” Suzuha’s voice sighs from the bedroom as if it had been three years instead of three weeks. Her hair is in a carefully crafted “messy” updo and her makeup is bright and eye-catching, but not garish or overdone. She had opted for a plain black midi dress, citing no need to impress the men of Sendai when she already had a boyfriend back in Tokyo.

You, on the other hand, were wearing one of her more shocking outfits; a baby pink crop top and mini skirt set in satin. Although you were half a dress size smaller than Suzuha, the thick, glossy material still clung to the curves of your body like it was painted on. The hem of the skirt hit you a couple inches below your ass and while it wasn’t the most revealing thing you’d worn out, it was certainly the most revealing thing you’d worn in front of people you’d known since childhood.

“I don’t know…” you say, uneasily, twisting in the mirror again to test if the skirt would ride up when you moved. Unfortunately, it did.

“What don’t you know?” she quips, clipping on a pair of giant hoop earrings. “You look like a total knockout. I can already imagine the nosebleeds you’re going to cause just by walking in the room.”

You snort, imagining the faces of nameless guys you’d passed in the halls of Seijoh. You knew that you’d gotten hot since graduation and you’d noticed how guys from Tokyo had treated you differently than the guys here. Every time you visited Sendai, you had left your makeup and wild outfits in your cramped city apartment. There was just never a pressing need to _not_ be bare-faced and wearing the same clothes from high school at home.

Plus, you were always afraid of how Makki and the others would react.

But here you were now, bringing your past and present together in one revealing, shimmery outfit. Just the thought of it causes you to shiver in the sweltering August heat.

“Relax,” she dictates, pressing down on your tense shoulders.

“They’re never gonna know what hit them.”

-

Suzuha lingers at your side as you push through the throng of people loitering in Oikawa’s foyer, kicking off your shoes to place alongside, what seemed to be, dozens of other pairs. It’s nothing new for you, you’d been in places that were breaking fire code violations much more direly, but the faces around you seem more familiar than not.

Even in the dark, you caught glimpses of recognizable features when the strobe lights hit them, but you had yet to come across someone you actually spoke to.

“God _damn_ ,” Suzuha yells, over the blasting music, “How many people does Oikawa _know_?”

“A lot,” you shout back, laughing, as you pull her in the direction of the kitchen. While you weren’t the closest with Oikawa, you’d spent many a high school night here underage drinking and shooting the shit with the other guys.

You think you notice a couple from high school making out in the corner.

“We should’ve pre-gamed,” she grumbles loudly, as she narrowly avoids a cluster of girls standing near the living room.

You agree silently, gasping as you manage to squeeze the both of you into the better-lit kitchen. It was still dark, but dim overhead lamps hung over the island where a familiar figure was manning a makeshift bar.

“Iwaizumi!” you call out and he lifts his head to scan the crowd for the source of his name. His gaze passes over you for a second before snapping back to your waving arm. The expression on his face is undecipherable.

“This is Su-ch...I mean, Suzuha!” you yell, lifting your friend’s arm as you approach the counter. They exchange polite greetings (or as polite as they can get in that setting) but Iwaizumi’s eyes linger on you in an odd mix of amazement and uncertainty.

“You look great,” is what he settles for, offering her a plastic cup filled with what appears to be a shochu highball. He hands Suzuha one too, who can’t bring the cup to her lips any faster.

“Thanks,” you grin at him before taking a sip of the drink. The taste of shochu is almost hidden in the syrupy flavour of the carbonated peach mixer but you’re smart enough to not undermine Iwaizumi’s drinks.

“Have you seen Makki yet?” Iwaizumi asks, his tone conversational.

Your heart leaps at the mention of Hanamaki’s name.

“Um, no,” you smile, leaning against the hardwood countertop. “Thought we’d stop here first for drinks,”

“Right, right,” he nods. “Just, uh, don’t be too surprised if he needs a minute.”

Before you can ask what he means, your conversation is cut short when a small group of people invade the space in search of booze.

As you’re slowly being pushed away from the counter, you wave goodbye to Iwaizumi, who promises to catch up with you later.

“That wasn’t him?” Suzuha questions in your ear as you slip out of the room, “That guy was, like, _hot_.”

You giggle, wrapping your arm around hers as you continue throughout the house.

“I’m serious, he had a _body_ ,” she remarks before taking a long drink from the cup he’d handed her. “Plus, the drinks he makes aren’t shit.”

“Iwaizumi is nice,” you say, contemplatively. “He’s reliable and he’s never late, but he’s not really my type.”

“You’ve thought about it?” she asks, knowingly.

You nod, blushing as you recall the short period in high school when you’d had a fleeting crush on Iwaizumi. Hanamaki had laughed in your face when you told him so you decided it just wasn’t meant to be.

“Shit, I would’ve thought about it too,” Suzuha muses as the two of you squeeze onto the same cushion of a loveseat.

The two of you people-watch for a bit, with you pointing out the people you knew and the rumours about them from high school. She laughs when you mention the story of how you, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa had burned off your eyebrows in chemistry (you had burned them off first by accident, and they’d done it after on purpose, just for the hell of it).

The world gets lighter and your words slip out freer as the liquor hits you. You’re on the cusp of having a good buzz going on but you know it won’t last long if you don’t get more in your system. Unfortunately the kitchen is crammed and you’re just too lazy to fight through the crowd.

“So when are you going to go see him?” Suzuha questions, downing the last of her chu-hi.

You run a thumb over the ridges of the plastic cup. “I don’t know,” you say, unsurely. “I’m a bit afraid, to be honest,” you admit, eyeing the stitching of the sofa.

“You’re afraid of your best friend?” she asks, in a way that says _Really_?

“Mhm,” you reply, fiddling with the tiny pendant of your necklace. An ex-boyfriend from Tokyo had bought it for you but it was expensive _and_ stylish so you’d just never taken it off.

“What is there to be afraid of?” she pokes you in the side. “Afraid we’re gonna have to call an ambulance because he’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you?”

You let out a short laugh, “Something like that.”

Beside you, the couple cohabiting your couch stands up to leave so you scoot over. You had been at the party for a while now and hadn’t even begun looking for Hanamaki, even though he was the whole reason why you looked the way you did now. You were torn between getting up to leave and asking around to see where he was. This was what you wanted, right? To have him see you in a different light; as a girl who wasn’t just one of the guys. So why did it terrify you so much to face him?

“Hey, stranger,” someone taps your shoulder and you whirl around, looking up to face one Matsukawa Issei.

“Mattsun!” you cry out, louder than you would if you were sober. You stand up to hug him, your bare arms wrapping around his long frame. You introduce Suzuha again and he hugs her too.

“I’m just gonna say it,” he starts, after taking a swig of the beer in his hand. “You look _fucking_ hot and I think Makki’s brain is going to short-circuit when he sees you.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Suzuha shouts, “I’ve been trying to tell her that this guy is gonna _lose_ it when he finally sees her.”

“What if I don’t _want_ him to lose it,” you say, slightly flustered as you pull at the smooth hem of your skirt. It had ridden up when you sat down and you were vaguely aware that you might’ve been flashing half the living room.

“Well it’s a bit too late for that,” Matsukawa says, dryly. “You’re already here, aren’t you?”

“What if I just snuck out the back?” you say, jokingly, “I’ll just climb Oikawa’s fence and run home, it’s not that far.”

“You’re gonna scale a fence in _that_ skirt?” he smirks, “If Makki sees you, he won’t be letting you get away that easily.”

“What are you saying?” you lean against the armrest of the chair. “He doesn’t even see me that way, Mattsun,” you scoff, “I’m one of you guys. I’m just one of the boys.” The bitterness seeps out of your voice unintentionally.

Matsukawa’s eyebrows creep up his forehead. “That’s um,” he shifts his weight to his other foot, “that’s something I think you and Makki should talk about yourselves. He’s out back with Oikawa.”

Suzuha clears her throat, “Well, I think we could definitely use some fresh air. It smells like beer and sweat in here.”

“Great idea,” Matsukawa remarks. You couldn’t disagree more. Nonetheless, Suzuha wraps her fingers around your wrist and pulls you to the exit of the room.

“ _Suzuha_ ,” you whine as she drags you through the clusters of people throughout the house. You turn around to look for an escape route but Matsukawa is bringing up the rear and you know you wouldn’t be able to get far before he snatched you up like a rag doll.

“If this gets weird I’m going to find you,” you promise to an amused looking Matsukawa. “I’m going to find you and I’m going to light your Miyawaki Sakura posters on fire because I know where you live and I know where you hide them.”

“How brutish of you,” he clicks his tongue, “And you used to be such a sweet girl when we were kids too.”

Suzuha slides open the glass door leading to Oikawa’s backyard and the cool summer night air washes over your exposed skin.

“Game face on!” she says, brightly, giving you her brightest fake grin.

“Shoot me, Su-chan,” you plead, “Shoot me and leave me on the deck to bleed out.”

You don’t dare turn around to face the yard as you put on a pair of slippers left by the door but you can hear the noise of at least a dozen people behind you.

Matsukawa waves to someone and you shoot him a withering glare that only widens his shit-eating grin.

In the distance, you hear your name being called out by a familiar enthusiastic voice and you turn around slowly.

“Yoohoo,” Oikawa calls out, a bright smile on his stupidly handsome face. You feel like a cornered animal as your friends herd you towards him. You don’t see Hanamaki at his side but you don’t dare to look around the rest of the yard for him.

“Don’t you look pretty tonight,” he basically purrs, scanning you from head to toe. “But I wouldn’t look so _tense_ if I were you,” he simpers.

“Don’t hide yourself. You’re not going to regret this,” he gives you the look that you hate, the one that makes you feel like he’s seeing what you’ve tried to hide from the world. This time it’s twinged with sympathy.

“I’m fine,” you lie, even though you know it’s no use with Oikawa.

He tilts his head, “I know you will be.”

“Anyways,” he smiles, turning away from you, “I haven’t seen Su-chan since March! Let’s go catch up and meet some new people.”

You watch helplessly as Oikawa tears your support system away from you.

“Text me if you need me,” Suzuha calls out as she’s being led away.

“You don’t even reply to your texts!” you cry out after her.

“I know!” she grins, before disappearing back into the house.

“ _Fuck_ ,” you whisper to yourself as you’re left alone in the night.

“‘Fuck’ seems like the appropriate word,” a soft voice off to your side says. You turn to face your best friend with your heart in your throat.

“Hey,” Makki says, a little breathless.

“Hey,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I can’t really think of any other word than ‘hey’ right now, so I’m gonna need you to help me out, Princess.”

You laugh and he visibly relaxes, taking a step towards you.

“You look really…”

“Different?” you offer, with a rueful smile.

“No,” he shakes his head, “You look like you but you’re… you look _incredible_.”

“I didn’t look incredible before?” you joke weakly but he doesn’t say anything and you scramble for something else to say.

Makki’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, “Can we go somewhere else? I have to talk to you about something.”

“Of course,” you say, pasting a smile on your face. “Lead the way.”

You follow him back into the house, shaking uncontrollably as you weave through the people around you. You don’t look around to see if you can find Suzuha and the others, you don’t look for a way out of this, you just keep your eyes trained on the crown of titian hair in front of you.

The din of the party fades as you move up the stairs, uncertainty rising like bile in your throat. You feel your pulse hammer against your eardrums, threatening to burst them at any second.

Hanamaki pushes the door to a guest bedroom open before flicking on the light and motioning for you to follow.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” you ask meekly, taking a seat beside him at the foot of the bed.

He refuses to look at you, training his eyes on the light green of the carpet underfoot. You shrink into yourself a bit, suddenly scared to come too close.

“I know how you feel about me,” he deadpans and you blanch.

“And how do you think I feel about you?” you reply quietly, the veins in your neck turning to ice.

“I know you…” he pauses, licking his lips. Your chest aches. “I know you _have feelings_ for me. I mean, I totally get it, I’m the full package,” he chokes out a laugh but you stay silent, picking at a stray thread on the bed’s comforter.

“There’s a “but” here, isn’t there?” you say flatly.

“I think there’s two butts here, actually,” he replies to no response again. “Oh come on, Princess, this is really hard.”

“Don’t call me that,” you groan, the words coming out sharper than you intend. “It’s _so_...it’s not who I am anymore.”

Hanamaki’s eyes flash to you, a look of pain in his dark irises. He lets out a short laugh, “I guess that’s right, I don’t really know who you are anymore.”

The words grab at your bare skin, prickling you and drawing blood.

“What do you mean?” you snap, getting on your feet. You couldn’t stand to be so close to him, not when he was making your blood boil like this.

“I mean, _look at you_ ,” he half-yells. “You look like a fucking...” he trails off as his gaze slips over your body, settling on your legs.

“What? A fucking what?” you prod, “Just spit it out, Takahiro. You think I look trashy.”

“What?” he lets out a noise of disbelief. “What? No- I...you look _beautiful_. Fucking gorgeous. I don’t think I could even-” he licks his lips.

You stand there, frozen. You hadn’t expected that.

“Hiro, what the hell are you trying to say?” you try for a calm tone but your hands still shake, giving you away.

“I’m trying to say that I’m not good enough for the new you,” he says weakly, eyes imploring. “But I also don’t want the new you. I want the old you and I know it’s selfish but I want things to be the same.”

Your bottom lip trembles. An aching wave crests in your ribcage and you want to collapse with it as it crashes against your chest.

“I don’t understand,” you say, defeated. “I’m still…I just look _different_ right now but I’ve _been_ changing and I’ve never hid that from you.”

“I know, I know,” he stands up and takes a step towards you, “Every time you come back from Tokyo you’re happier and more outspoken and you have all these new friends and stories and I’m just _worried_ that one day you won’t need us anymore. That you won’t need _me_ anymore.”

Fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you into the warmth of his body and you unsuccessfully try to choke down the sob in your throat.

“You’re so _stupid_ ,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt, vaguely aware of the wetness forming in your eyes. “I would never let you go. And Tokyo doesn’t even _compare_ to you, dumbass. I’d pick you over Tokyo any day.”

“But I don’t want you to do that,” Hanamaki rubs circles into your back. “I see how much it’s done for you and I know how much you’re going to do for it in the future. You can’t stay here when it’s not where you belong.”

“Who are you to tell me where I don’t belong?” you push away from him to shoot him a sharp glare but you’re sure it just looks pathetic with your misty eyes. “You’re not _getting it_. I will _always_ be with you, you’re irreplaceable. And not just because I lo-not just because I _like_ you, either.”

He looks down at you, dumbfounded.

“And what is this bullshit about _not being good enough for me_?” you snap. “You’re more than enough for me. You’re all I’ve ever wanted for _years_ , Takahiro, so don’t give me that crap about not being good enough for me because you’re not the one who gets to decide that for me.”

There’s a beat of silence where he regards you with a mixture of awe and amusement.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks and anger flares in your chest.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” you retort but before he can reply, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you.

Your lips find his in an uncoordinated series of movements, the teeth behind his lips pressing painfully hard against your flesh. You gasp and he mumbles an apology into your mouth between kisses.

You break apart and you’re momentarily stunned as you open your eyes again. The same nervous energy thrums in your chest but there he is in front of you, beautiful with a high flush in his cheeks and _oh god,_ the way he’s looking at you is almost more than you can take.

“Are you…” you whisper, “Are you still rejecting me?”

“What?” he lets out a throaty chuckle, “Seriously, Princess, does it _look_ like I’m rejecting you now?”

“Oh my god, shut _up_ ,” you groan and he complies, choosing to lean down and press a kiss to your forehead. The action is so careful, so intimate, and so unfamiliar yet so _right_ at the same time.

He sits down on the bed and you climb onto his lap, fingers winding into his hair as you bring your lips to his again. These kisses are better; softer, more precise, more like the kisses you’d imagined a million times before.

“You don’t know...” he presses his lips against the side of your mouth.

“...how much...” Another one flutters near the curve of your ear.

“...I’ve wanted to kiss you like this.” You tremble as he contacts the delicate skin of your neck.

Hands move from your bare waist to the soft fabric of your skirt, skimming down to the hem and onto your thighs, pressing hard against the soft flesh.

“Guess this is a good time to tell you,” he mumbles into your jaw, “Your outfit is _really_ doing it for me like _fuck_ , I really thought I was gonna die when I first saw you, Princess.” You shiver at his words because _shit_ , the thought of Hanamaki being drawn to you like that causes a warm feeling to pool in the area between your legs.

“Yeah?” you breathe as his kisses migrate down your neck, getting more and more needy.

“Yeah,” he whispers, his breath feathering against your throat, “You look so fucking hot in that little skirt. I see the way you keep trying to pull it down because it keeps riding up and _fuck_ I just wish you wouldn’t.”

“H-huh?” you stutter as he bites at the skin near your collarbone, “You want me to flash everyone at the party?”

He hums. “Well maybe not _everybody_ ,” he says, his fingers pushing the fabric up your thigh slightly, “Maybe just me.”

You laugh, a little taken aback, “What do you mean?”

He pauses, lifting his face from your clavicle to give you a thoughtful look.

“I mean,” he says, hands settling on your hips, “I want you to get up for me.”

You get off his lap as he asks, confused but willing. The fabric of your skirt is bunched up around your hips from straddling him and he reaches out to pull it down, but not all the way.

“Against the wall,” he orders and you comply, standing to face the wall with your back towards him.

“Bend over,” he says. You feel his presence behind you, hovering over your shoulder, but you do as he asks. Planting your forearm against the wall, you lean forward slightly so that your ass presses against the top of Hanamaki’s thigh. He moves slightly and you feel something else pushing against the soft fabric of your skirt.

“ _Oh_ ,” you whimper as you feel his clothed erection rubbing against you. It’s so insanely vulgar but you can’t help but moan as he presses up against you even further. A hand moves up your thigh and you feel his fingertips dragging slow lines up the inside, teasing closer and closer to the crotch of your underwear.

“God you look so hot,” he groans, shifting to trap you further against the wall. “I can see your panties when you bend over for me like this and it turns me on so _fucking_ much.”

“Y-yeah?” your breathing stutters as his fingers drag across your clit in one languid motion.

“Yeah,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “You look so naughty like this.” you feel his other hand reaching for the fly of his shorts, undoing them swiftly. “So bad when you’re exposing yourself to me.”

His words go straight to your crotch, causing you to shift uncomfortably in your underwear and you blush because _God_ , you were getting so wet already. He kicks out of his shorts and you gasp when you feel the tip of his bare cock against your thigh, the slow trickle of precum leaking onto your flushed skin.

To your surprise, he kneels down, his cheek brushing against the inside of your leg.

“What are you doing?” you ask, looking down at him as he presses a kiss to the back of your knee.

“Enjoying the view,” he says, cheekily, and you blush as he licks a stripe up your thigh, his gaze shamelessly migrating to your ass and clothed cunt. He continues biting and sucking at the sensitive skin of your thighs, causing you to whimper with each consecutive action. He’s hovering dangerously close to your crotch now and you can feel his breath, warm against the thin cotton of your thong.

“ _Hiro,_ ” you moan as you readjust your legs again. He continues to work up your thighs, nipping at the soft flesh.

“So beautiful,” he breathes into your skin, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t believe it.”

His hands squeeze against your thighs and you whimper as his nose nudges against your clothed clit. He hastily replaces the contact with his tongue, licking shamelessly against the fabric and causing a spike of pleasure to surge throughout your body.

Your knees buckle as he continues to lap at your most sensitive point and you cry out. The crotch of your thong was now soaked and you didn’t know how much was from you and how much was from him shamelessly eating you out over your underwear.

You reach down with one hand, hooking your fingers in the elastic to pull down the garment and he rushes to help you, tearing the other side down as well. You step out of it and he turns back to the task at hand by pressing wet kisses against the bare skin of your cunt, causing you to moan with such _desperation_ that it barely seems like you anymore.

He takes this as an invitation, tongue moving closer and closer until it finally begins to circle your clit and you almost cry as the shocks of pleasure ripple through you. You throw your head back, flushed skin exposed to the world as he licks into you so desperately, so _achingly_ that your knees buckle from the overwhelming sensation of it all.

Somehow, he manages to hold onto you, manages to support you before you collapse entirely into him.

“Easy, Princess,” he mumbles as he grips your shaking legs, easing you into a kneel as he lies down between your legs.

“You want this?” you ask, hesitantly as you hover above him, the fabric of your skirt now ridden up completely around your waist.

“More than anything,” he breathes, eyes hazy with such unabashed desire that you can hardly deny him.

Lowering yourself, you moan as his tongue makes contact with your clit again. Fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, pulling you right on top of him. You worry about potentially suffocating him but he seems to revel in this, burying his mouth in the soft folds of your cunt.

Heat blooms from your forehead to your chest as you grind wantonly against his tongue, gasping as your pleasure approaches its peak.

“H-Hiro!” you cry out, your toes curling painfully against the wooden flooring. You whine as the sensation climbs so desperately slow towards its summit. “I’m close, baby, I’m so fucking close. _Please,_ _please, please, please,_ ” you beg again and again until you can’t even recognize them as words anymore. You don’t even know why you’re begging; at this moment you can’t string together a coherent thought to save your life.

You ride out your orgasm on his tongue, pleading and falling apart against him until your spasms finally slow. You hiccup, hips twitching as he continues sucking at the delicate, pulsing flesh at your core.

Shaking, you barely gather the strength to get off of him, collapsing in a quivering mess at his side as he pushes himself up with the world’s most satisfied smirk on his face.

“Feel good?” he inquires, smugly, but your brain is working in half-time so you simply nod.

He helps you up, pulling you into his arms, where you just want to melt against him. He leads you to the bed and you reach for the zipper of your skirt but he stops you by wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

“Keep it on,” he commands, his voice betraying an edge of carnality. You oblige and he bends you over the edge of the bed. Twisting your fingers into the bedspread, you whimper as his fingers rub against the oversensitive skin of your clit before tracing a line down to your entrance.

His fingertip, slick with your fluids, circles the opening and you gasp as he moves back up to orbit your clit lightly. He repeats this motion, teasing the opening of your cunt but refusing to press into the heat where your anticipation was beginning to build.

Before you can form a plea, the feeling of his fingers is replaced with something wider and softer. The tip of his cock presses against your wet folds and your breathing stutters as he drags it up and down your cunt in a similar motion to his fingers.

“ _Oh_ ,” you moan as his shaft rubs deliciously against your still-swollen clit. He moves again, his cock sliding over the lips of your pussy with ease, aided by how soaked you already were from everything he’d done to you before.

Re-adjusting, he pushes your thighs together and you lean forward so that your head is cushioned by the soft blankets below you.

He thrusts against you, causing you to sob as the head of his cock slips over your clit again and again. You’re very aware of how _lewd_ the act is but the thought turns you on even more and you feel a familiar heat coil in your stomach again.

“Fuck,” Hanamaki groans above you, “Fuck, _fuck_.”

“Don’t cum yet,” you whine, bucking against his cock. The slick noise it makes as it slides against your clit once more drives you into a frenzy and you bite at the sheets, spit dribbling down your chin shamelessly.

“I’m trying not to, Princess,” he rasps, pulling out from between your thighs. “But you’re making it so _hard_.”

You cry out at the loss of contact but he just chuckles. “I didn’t know you were so _needy_ ,” he muses.

“Hiro, shut up and _fuck me_ ,” you say through gritted teeth, “I’ve been waiting like three years for this.”

“So demanding,” he clicks his tongue. You feel the head of his cock press into the folds of your slick cunt, finding your entrance with ease. But before you can come up with a retort, he begins to push into you with such an aching slowness that all that comes out of your mouth is one long moan.

You let out a gasp as you feel him fill you up; the sensation so satisfying yet so overwhelming at the same time.

He pulls out just as slow and you whine in protest.

“Just fuck me,” you beg, “Fuck me, _please_.”

“Anything for you, Princess,” he breathes.

And he makes good on his word, fucking you into the mattress of Oikawa’s guest bed like you both weren’t going to cop hell for it later. Your grip on the sheets tightens as he drives into you hard.

“Move up,” he groans and you shift from under him to get on top of the comforter. Grabbing a pillow from near the headboard, you place it underneath your hips and lie on your stomach.

You feel him move to get on top of you, planting his knees on either side of your thighs as he lines his cock up with your entrance again.

You whimper as he slips into you with more haste this time, leaning over your shoulder as he fucks into you desperately. Every fibre of your body feels like it’s on fire; like it’s being set ablaze by his touch and you willingly burn away under him.

Nails and teeth drag across your skin but his roughness only fuels your pleasure, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of release once again.

Unexpectedly, he gets there first, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as you feel his cock pulse deep inside of you. You gasp, the feeling of him spilling out from within you causing your muscles to flutter around him.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hisses as he pulls out of you, smearing a line of his cum down your thighs as he does.

You feel a bit empty without the sensation of him inside you now, but you can’t say you’re not satisfied. Brushing a sweat-slicked strand of hair from your face, you roll yourself over, your chest still heaving from what had just transpired.

The mattress dips beside you as Hanamaki lies down next to you, his breathing as heavy—if not heavier—than yours.

“Well, that was pretty fun,” he remarks.

You snort, turning to face him. “ _Pretty_ fun?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “Like at least three times more fun than my first playthrough of Breath of the Wild.”

“Three times more fun than Breath of the Wild, huh?” you parrot, wide-eyed, “I must’ve been pretty good then.”

“Yeah, baby. Fireblight Ganon’s got nothing on you.” he snickers, reaching over to pinch your thigh.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you and you close your eyes, listening to the muted thrum of the music blasting downstairs.

“So does this mean we’re dating?” you question quietly as he leans over to bring his forehead to yours.

“Hell yeah,” he whispers and you grin as he pulls you close into his deep, sweaty embrace.

“Don’t ever pull that I-can’t-be-with-you-because-you’re-too-good-for-me crap again, Takahiro,” you huff into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You feel his chest rumble as he laughs, “I won’t, Princess.”

You pull away so you can look him in the eyes. “Swear on it,” you hold out a pinky in front of his face.

He grins, hooking his own pinky with yours.

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> current concern: i am afraid i will never taste the perfect niku udon in my lifetime  
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